A new addition
by ArtyomsChalenger
Summary: The Man in the Moon decides that it is time for a new Guardian. But his choice has them all a little shocked, and why do they need another Guardian? Now, join them all in their adventures and misadventures as they save the world again. Some use of other languages, I own nothing, enjoy. ON HIATUS while I get my crap together.
1. Chapter 1

**The call of the Moon**

Bunnymund hates dark caves. Hates them with the bitter fury of a thousand dying suns. The fact that this one was lined with cobwebs every now and then doesn't make things any better. He replays the morning in his mind.

"I'm glad you could all make it," North's heavy voice cuts through the scuffing noise of the Yeties feet on the stone floor, "The Man in the Moon has decided that it is time for a new Guardian to join us."

"What?!" Bunny exclaims, voicing the shock that the rest of the group felt, their eyes widening and their bodies leaning subconsciously forwards, ready to hang onto every following word for dear life. North simply nods and closes his eyes for a moment before continuing.

"He instructed me to call you all here before he says anything more, so now that you _are _here," He turns around, spreading his arms to the moon.

"Well old friend?" he starts, "What new have you for us today, eh?"

A single beam of moonlight strikes a patterned section of floor, causing it to rise and expand in a mechanical manner. Once risen, steam flows from the tip of the small obelisk, flowing upwards in a spiral, eventually forming a smooth pillar. Bit by bit, pieces of the pillar fall away, carving out an image.

"Please not the groundhog, please not the groundhog, please not the groundhog…" Bunny chants under his breath, his eyes narrowed to little slits in his face. Suddenly, all at once, what's left of the pillar shakes violently, revealing the full form of the newest Guardian. Everyone's jaws drop and eyes widen at the figure before them, taking an involuntary step back.

"You've gotta be freakin' kiddin' me, mate," Bunny manages through his shock. The single image of a tall man in a cloak that drifts down to the ground, hood pulled down over his eyes and nose, both hands resting gently on the staff of a scythe that stands proudly at his side is illuminated by the moonlight. "You're kidding, right?" Bunny almost chuckles, "Friggin' _Death_? HE'S the new Guardian?!" He rages as the mist falls slowly to the ground, and the moonlight fades to a normal brightness.

"Well," Jack says with a shrug of his frost-laced shoulders, "You didn't believe the Man in the Moon when he picked me, either."

"I_ still_ don't believe the Man in the Moon on that one, mate," Bunny says, smiling, looking back at the spirit of Winter, joking about the 'good ol' days', as he called them. Jack looks down a bit, shaking his head, but unable to keep a smile from his pale face.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, just go find 'im mister 'I'm the fastest thing on Earth'."

A heavy, dark downbeat of a piano snaps Bunny back to the present, almost sending him to the ground in surprise.

"Criky!" he shouts in fear, his exclamation echoing through the tunnel, but quickly being droned out by the piano's minor tune. He stands up and follows the sound through the tunnel, eventually coming to a wide room, lit by candles and a large fire in a depression in the middle of the room. The floor is made of smoothed bedrock, carved with intricate patterns. The ceiling is low, too, with only a few inches of room above Bunny's head. A single piano sits in the corner. Walking over to it, Bunny finds just the man he's looking for.

"Nice playing, Death," he offers. The player looks at him, and nods his thanks, not breaking tune or beat.

"Hey, if I could ask you a favor, mate, could you maybe-" He's cut off when a portal opens, followed by two Yeti who grab the cloaked man, and drag him back through with them.

Bunny brings his paw up to his head, gently resting his head on his knuckles for a moment.

"Bloody hell North, you need to chill with the Yetis," he mumbles as he pats the ground gently with his foot twice, and a sinkhole opens in front of him.

* * *

**Got this idea, literally, immediately after seeing the movie. This chapter is just an experiment to see how this could work. If you don't think it will: tell me. If you _do _think it will: tell me. If people like it, I'll continue, and chapters will be longer. Thanks, and have a nice night/ morning/ day/ afternoon/ evening.**


	2. Close encounters of the strange kind

When Bunny gets back to the pole, the Guardians are all locked in a very heated discussion with Death, but he can't here over the noise of the factory what they are talking about. Walking forward to the group, he can start to hear them all more clearly.

"What are you _talking _about?" North cries out, loud enough to distract the entire Yeti workforce. _Uh-oh,_ Bunny starts thinking, _if this guy _already _has North in one of his fits-_

"How can you say spearmint is best flavor? Now _pepper_mint, that is a force to be reckoned with!" Bunny stops. _What the bloody hell have I just stepped into?_

"Nononono," Jack says from his sitting position, three feet off the ground, "Wintergreen is the best, there is _no _argument about that."

"Guys?" Bunny tries to get their attention through their intense argument about mints, to no avail. "_Guys_?" He tries again, louder this time. Still nothing. "GUYS!" Everything and everyone stops, looking at Bunnymund.

"Yes?" they all say in stereo.

"What the hell are you talking about, mates?"

Exchanging a quick glance, the group starts bursting out laughing.

"Very, very important things," North says, a chuckle still in his rumbling voice, "that is all you have to know, Mr. Chocolate,"

_Okay, this day can't get much weirder_, Bunny says to himself, giving up on even trying to understand what had happened in the _ten freaking seconds_ he was in transit. Turning to Death, he sees the dark figure with his back turned, looking longingly at a piano, sitting on a slightly elevated step, surrounded by candles. His cloak, he notices for the first time, has a bright white line in the very center of it, stretching vertically for about a foot.

"Any story on the line, there, mate?" he asks in curiosity. He gets no answer, as Death wordlessly walks to the piano, sitting down at it with a genuinely happy aura washing off of him. He slowly reaches his hands up to the keys, and plays the same song he was playing in his room. Everyone slowly stops, simply standing and listening to the dark, yet calming music that rolls off of the piano like tidal waves. Two elves, who were up until that point very busy beating each other to pulp, just stare, completely at ease.

As the last, minor notes ring out, the entire world is still. Tooth is silently crying. The quiet of the polar base is as the most soothing melody any had ever heard. Then, slowly, things start moving again, the yeti get back to their tasks, the elves keep being elves, and the world continues like nothing ever happened.

"Th-tha… that was _beautiful_," Tooth says softly, "What was that called?"

"It's called Death Dance." Death's voice shocks them. It rings like the melody it is; treble, alto, and bass all in the perfect balance ringing together from under the mysterious, dark hood. It was like a small choir, wrapped into one voice, emanating from one individual.

Grabbing his scythe from off of the ground, he walks over to the middle of the room, under the shadow of the massive globe. Jumping, he pounds his scythe on the ground, and the blade implodes in a thick, dark-grey smoke, which drifts gently to the ground as he lands on the tip of the now bladeless staff, balancing in a squat.

"Tooth is right, y'know," he says with a slight nod. Everyone looks at him in mild confusion. "Spearmint is the best. Unarguably."

"Oh really?" North replies quickly, rolling up his sleeves, "Well I've got a bit of a- You know what? We're really off of the topic, let's get back, no?"

"Yes, so please explain:" Death says, remaining completely motionless the entire time, clasping his black-gloved hands together and bringing them to his hooded face, "why did you summon- correction: abduct me now, of all times? No news for 400 years, and now you need to take me mid-song?"

The Guardians all look at each other questioningly. Until the question had been posed, they hadn't really thought about that. Why had they had to take him, beyond the simple fact that the Man in the Moon told them to?

"Seeing as how you seem to be struggling a bit, I'm going to take it that you don't really have much of a reason?"

"Yeah, pretty much," Tooth answers sheepishly, "Sorry."

Death just sighs, shaking his head and jumping back down off of his staff. Landing in a crouch, he grips his staff again, and the same type of black smoke as before drifts from the tip, re-forming the wicked, curved blade.

"Well then, it would appear that we have some figuring to do." With that he simply goes to sit on a small chair near the Guardians and brings a hand to his shadow-shrouded chin in thought, letting his scythe rest on his shoulder, blade down. The group just looks at him for a moment.

"What?" he says, looking back at the confusion in their eyes, "If you guys don't know why I'm here, and you're even the ones who brought me here, it looks like we have a bit of thinking to do, _ja_?"

_Ach so, ach so. Warum immer mich? Jeden Zeit…_

* * *

**Well, that was more feedback than I was expecting. Really, if you gave any sort of feedback: thank you so very much, you are the reason I write. So Death is at the pole, and he likes spearmint (the best type of mint. Unarguably). Sorry it took a while to update, and I apologize in advance for the wait you're going to have for the next chapter, my teachers have assigned something like four or five projects all due at basically the same time, all in about a week, and after that, I don't think I'll be in much of a writing mood, so I'm sorry about that. But until the next chapter in however long it takes, goodbye.**


	3. The mission

"There's got to be some reason he was chosen, there just has to be," North mutters to himself and the rest of the Guardians, stroking his wide beard thoughtfully.

"Well, it certainly wasn't for conversation," Bunny says with a chuckle, looking over at the silent new arrival, still sitting way back in the small chair, his scythe hanging loosely over his shoulder, supported by one hand at the very base. One of his hands was near invisible under his cloak hood, as if he were resting his chin on his hand.

"Hey now," Tooth chides, "He may be new, and he may be quieter than what we're used to, but that's no reason to be mean to him." They all just look at him for a few moments before turning back in to the circle they formed.

"But we _do _need to figure out why he's here. Why do we need another guardian at all?"

"That's a good question," they all hear a melodic voice below them, and they look down to find Death laying on his back, head resting on his arms, which are crossed behind his head. They all jump back a tad, looking down at him in shock.

"What th- how did? You were… huh?" Jack stutters.

"I think that your Man in the Moon may have an answer for us," Death says in his almost overly-calm voice. They all look up and, sure enough, the moon is shining brighter than usual filling the room with unnoticed, but beautiful pale light.

"Ay, so it does," North's voice is softer somewhat than usual, "What have you for us now, friend?"

The familiar, awe-striking beam of moonlight descends to the floor, and the pillar once more starts to rise in its misty cloak it almost seems as though the room is filling with the music of wonder and magic. The pillar's mist forms to the shape of… a man in a dark cloak holding a scythe. The Guardians all look at each other in confusion. The steamy image of the figure dissolves, and the pillar falls back into the floor. The magic lost, the music seems to die down. The group turns around, and the polar workers resume their tasks, and Death lowers his violin, and… wait, what?

"When did you get a violin?!"

"' few moments before the song started," Death replies with a shrug. He lowers his arm, and the violin melts into thick, hanging shadows, reforming in the form of his scythe.

"It just showed ol' Death here again…" North says, eyebrows furrowing in confusion, stroking his beard again.

_The Man in the Moon wouldn't show us anything for no reason_, Death thinks, _so if he's already called me here, and he's showing me again, that could only mean… no._ Deaths eyes widen beneath his hood, his head snapping up in shock at the realization.

"My brother." The melody in Death's voice is gone. His voice is flat, lifeless, hollow. All of the Guardians look at him. "My brother," he repeats himself, this time just as dead and dry as the last.

"Whatdaya mean, brother?" Bunny asks, "Who's your brother?"

"He's Death," Death's reply comes, met with only blank looks and raised eyebrows, "He's _Death _Death. He's the Reaper."

"What does that have anything to do with-"

"And he's _back!_" Some of the harmony is returning to Death's voice as he says this, his cloaked head slowly sinking, angling downwards. A harsh _cling_ing rings out, and everyone looks to Sandy, who is holding a somewhat dazed elf, a big question mark above his head.

"There are two aspects of Death," Death explains, "the calmness, the sort of release and freedom, the peace and the harmony; and then there's the darkness," Death scowls under his hood, "the evil, the hate. There are two, always two, never more and never less."

Realization dawns on everyone's faces as they see the situation they are in fully for the first time.

"So that means," Tooth starts, "that bad Death is out again and back in business. People are going to…" She trails off, leaving the thought unspoken, but loud in the minds of everyone gathered. Death simply nods.

"Hey, um, Death?" Jack says, Death looks to him, "Is there something a little less… morbid that we could can you? I mean, no offense or anything, but I'm starting to feel kinda weird calling you Death all the time." Death just stands unmoving for a moment.

"Angel, if that would be better," Bunny barely contains his laughter, the other guys aren't quite as reserved, laughing loud and heavy.

"Angel? Seriously?" Bunny says with a chuckle.

"Yes. I _am _the Angel of Death, after all," Death responds coolly, his voice taking on a minor tone, despite the rage they dug up and the scowl on his face. _Forgive them father, for they know not what they do. _Death thinks silently. They just keep laughing, all except for Tooth, who is trying to calm them down. _Forgive _me _father, for they know not what they do._

_Tooth, stand back a moment,_ Tooth hears in her head. She backs away from the group of hysterical Guardians. Shadows immediately overtake them, calming their laughter, blurring it into the sounds of the workshop, muffling it as if they were underwater. Death melts into the shadows, and all that can be seen of him is the white shine of the blade of his scythe, carving a wicked curve in the darkness.

A black meteor falls from the skies, trailing wispy shadows, and smashes into the ground in the center of the group. All three of the Guardians fly backwards, slamming into whatever was unfortunate enough to be behind them. A heavy, yet eerily calm voice with an even heavier bass undertone rings out through the giant room.

"_A small fact: You are going to die…_" Tooth gasps. "_Does this worry you?_"

* * *

**Mwahaha! Things will be explained next chapter (whenever that comes out), don't worry. Sorry for not having updated, school is still beating me to a fine pulp most of the time, but I'll try to get stuff done soon. If you think you recognize that quote at the very last part, comment, first person to get it right wins. I lost the game. Auf Wiedersehen.**


	4. The explanation

"Stop!" Tooth yells as the other Guardians struggle against an invisible, yet overpowering force emanating from the thick, low-resting cloud of black vapour in the room, "Don't hurt them! ANGEL!"

"Yes?" a calm voice sounds from behind her. She turns around to see the Angel of Death standing behind her, head tilted slightly sideways, one hand gripping his scythe.

"What? But, if you're here, then who's?-"

"Just wait and see." _What's he doing here _now _of all times? Why now? Why not sometime like World War II? At least that would've been natural. Somewhat. _As if on cue, the central cloud of smoke starts drifting towards the two, slowly condensing and rising in a loose cylinder.

"Hallo, Bruder," the column says, condensing more into another hooded figure, this one with wicked barbed wire patterns running down the sleeves and the center of the hood, stretching all the way down the back. "_Ich hab' dir nicht für so lang gesehen_." The newcomer's voice is dry and wispy, his 's's sounding almost like thin hisses.

"_Und ich, du, _so why now?" Angel says with curiosity in his voice.

"Oh, you should know that," his brother sounds somewhat resentful, "you _are_ standing in the meeting grounds of the few, the proud, the Guardians, after all."

"And what's _that_ supposed to mean, Death… other Death, um," Tooth fumbles around what to call the new arrival.

"Reap, if you would like, and I should think it obvious, or has your Man in the Moon not told you?" Reap sounds genuinely surprised that they don't know.

"So… you're not here to kill us, or try to take any power, or anything like that?" Tooth tries to clarify.

"No, why do you- Oh! Yes, your friends, I almost forgot." With a downward motion with his hand, Reap brings the other Guardians back to the ground. "But if I see or hear of _any_ of you picking on my little brother again…" he cuts off, leaving the implications of his being, and the threat in his voice to let the Guardians make their own inferences.

"So brother, you say that you think your purpose should be clear?" Angel asks again, hoping to know why his brother had shown finally shown up after so long.

"_Ja, du weißt nicht?_" Reap switches to German, not wanting the entire group to know his reasoning, a knowledge that has historically been limited to just him and his brother. Shaking his head, Angel shifts his hands up higher on his scythe, leaning on it. "Hmm, well, just to steady some nerves, I'm not here to kill anyone. Yet. _Aber wie weißt du _nicht_? Es würde dir auch beeinflussen... Oder?_" Reap rests his hooded chin on his hand exhaling audibly.

"So what is it?"

"It's just that… y'know what, you'll find out in good time," Reap says mysteriously, his dry voice gaining a bit of texture. "Sorry about the scratchy voice," he apologizes, reaching into his hood to, they assume, rub his throat, "Four hundred years of silence 'll do that to a spirit."

"So what's that supposed to- Criky!" Bunny leaps back in surprise as a strange mutant drops from the ceiling next to Reap. It has long arms and legs, and a short torso, with matte-black skin pulled tightly over layers of muscle. Its face is flat on a somewhat triangular head. Its eyes look hollow, and two slits act as its nose. But it has no mouth. A thick voice radiates from it in their minds, sounding in layers, like a quick echo.

"_All has been done to your request, my liege,_" it says from the crouch it has held since landing, its head lowered.

"_Gut gemacht, jetzt geh… und deine Ziel töten._" The creature seems shiver as it stands up. "_Du weißt, du musst dies machen,_" Reap lays a hand on its shoulder reassuringly, "_Wir nie vergessen._" With that the creature nods, turning and running quickly to a window, jumping through it. A bright light flashes, and the creature is gone.

"Alright, what the bloody hell was _that_?" Bunny asks, still slightly shaken by the whole encounter.

"That was a…" Reap stops himself pausing a moment before continuing, "Well, you don't have to know what it is, just that it's friendly. For the moment."

_Always with the last-minute disclaimers, what's he planning?_ Angel looks at his brother for a moment, looking into his deep black hood.

"Well, you said that we would find out why you came 'in good time.' What's that supposed to mean, and when can we-"

"If you're really that eager to find out, would you please follow me for a moment," Reap cuts North off, turns on his heels, and walks across the room to the giant globe. Turning back to the Guardians, he points at the globe. "What do you see here?"

"A world of children that believe, one of memories, and wonder, and fun, and-"

"That's exactly what you're _supposed _to see," North is cut off early again, "But when one looks through the eyes of death…" He turns back to the globe. Breathing deeply, he shoots his arms above his head, bringing them slowly down in wide arches as he breathes out slowly. Putting one leg behind him, and leaning heavily on it, he shoots his arms forward, and holds the stance as a large shadow falls over the entire globe. The Guardians all step back in surprise as all of the shining yellow lights dim, or turn red, or orange, changing from the soft, happy glow that they are used to, to a menacing, sickly radiation.

"Those are the lights of death and sickness, the lights of a dying world," Reap says almost calmly.

"Then stop! Stop _killing _people!" Tooth yells out.

"Oh, how I wish I could, but I have no blame to carry. No single man, woman, child, or spirit can cause this wide-spread death and destruction. This world is slowly killing itself," Reap turns to the Guardians, "This is not like your last fight for humans, this can't be won by simply defeating a spirit, a physical form. Here, you need to fight a group of beliefs, a collection of ideas and ideals held by the very children you are sworn to protect and their parents alike."

The Guardians simply look at Reap, dumbfounded and at a loss for something, anything, to say.

"Well," Angel's voice cuts the long silence, and everyone looks at him, "I suppose we should bet on a bit more of a first-name basis. My name is Hans," he says as everybody except Reap looks at him in shock as he pulls his hood off.

* * *

**Yeesh, sorry it took me so long, but school as been keeping me pretty busy for the first time in my life. Also, I felt kinda bad about having that language disclaimer at the beginning and then not having any language, so more German and maybe some others are to come, thou hast been warned. Other than that, I've got nothin'. Happy/merry belated winter holidays.  
**


	5. A bit more explaining to do

Tooth looks at him in more shock than anyone else, taking in his appearance. His skin is pale as paper, with no marks except a small scar stretching horizontally right under his left eye and a barbed wire tattoo spanning from halfway through his forehead, over his right eye and down his jawline to his chin. Long black hair flows loosely over his forehead, stretching down to his eyes in some spots. His eyes are grey as a stormy sky, the light reflecting off of them to make lightning seem to spread across them.

"Wow…" she whispers quietly and subconsciously, such that only she can hear herself.

"So that's what death looks like, eh?" Jack says, looking at the spirit. Angel just shrugs.

"Eh, better that you guys find out what he looks like now, I suppose," Reap says from the corner he slowly drifted to.

"And why's that?" North asks, suddenly suspicious of the unfamiliar dark spirit, not knowing if there was any malice in the simple statement. There's no such thing as too cautious with spirits. He just chuckles, shaking his hooded head.

"I just think it's a good time to now. Sooner rather than later, y'know? I've just got this feeling." His voice drifts off a little at the end.

"In your belly." North says with a huge grin, his cheeks seeming to puff out even more than usual. "I know that feel."

"Yes, yes, yes, it's nice to know what your brother looks like, and you have a magical belly like North, and blah blah blah," Jack says irritably, "But _why_ are you _here_?" Reap sighs, his shoulders rising and falling once sharply.

"Alright, fine, I'll tell you… I-I… My- I… lost. My power." His voice is filled with embarrassment, and everyone can just _feel_ the reddening of his face beneath his hood.

A long silence passes, everyone's eyes on the dark figure. Nobody says a word. Even the yetis and elves stop their activity. Suddenly, Jack and Bunny start chuckling, slowly crescendoing to a roaring laugh. Both death's eyes narrow as the two practically fall over each other, trying to use the other as support.

"Wh- wh-what. are you. talking about mate?" Bunny eventually manages to wheeze out in between laughs, "You seemed to have _plenty _of power when you were pinnin' us to the-"

And then, for the second time in the hour, they were slammed on the walls by death. Both of them.

"So anyway," Angel says relatively calmly, "You say that you lost your power, eh?" Reap just looks down and nods, "Hmm, I'm guessing that it was taken by some jealous Ideas," he says, suddenly bolting his arms out, jolting himself up from his seat. He looks up at the globe, with its reddening lights, some of which are already flickering.

"Those of, say,-"

"Wait a second," Tooth cuts in, her eyebrows furrowed in confusion, "ideas? How can an idea take something?"

"No, not idea, _I_deas, with a capital 'I', and power isn't anything either," Angel continues, his voice quickly adopting an almost comically fitting British accent as he moves to take a seat, "So how can one use power, or hold power, or _take _power? Hm?" He motions to his dark brother, "Our power doesn't reside in our scythes, as much as people love to simplify it to such. And with the power of _Death… _Well, let's just say that not much good can come from _anything_ but Death wielding Death's power." Several moments pass as everything sets in.

"But… If your power isn't in your scythes, then why doesn't Reap have his scythe?" They all look to Reap for a moment, waiting expectantly for an answer. Sighing melodramatically, Reap makes a small motion with his hand. The thick black smoke rises up around his feet again, curling around him up to his hand as he starts to raise it over his shoulder. The smoke forms a pole that extends beyond his hand, trailing wisps of stringy blackness behind as it continues to arc towards his shoulder. Everyone stares at him as the smoke solidifies to finally form a shotgun, the word _Scythe _punched into the side of the stock.

"Hmh," Angel says with a smirk after a brief pause, "Hardware upgrade, eh?" Reap just nods, grinning under his hood. Why had he and his brother ever split ways? "Anyway, so all we have to do is, well, to put it lightly, beat the living bijezus out of the Ideas that took ol' Reap's power and take it back." North this time raises a questioning eyebrow, and asks:

"Now what do you mean by 'beat the Ideas'? How would one do that?"

"Well, all _we_ are, are just glorified Ideas," Angel once again quickly explains, "and if you would take a moment to look at Mr. Frost and Bunny up there, it's _very _possible to put a bit of a hurtin' on them."

"Just how did you figure all of this out?" Tooth asks in wonder.

"Well, when you have a bit too much free-time, like say, 400 years too much, you start to just sit and think. And keep thinking, and let thought breed thought, as nature first intended. You learn to like it, and do it more and more, and just let thoughts fly wherever they may." Angel's face turns to a smile during the explanation, filled with the simple joy of his. With another small motion of Angel's hand, Jack and Bunny fall from their new spots on the walls.

"Okay, okay," a newly freed Bunnymund says, rubbing his sore head, "so we're all just Ideas, but how do we find the spirits who took 'is power?"

The room falls silent for the far-too-many-th time that day. All eyes are on Angel. He simply looks around at all of the eyes that are so focused on him, hand gripping his chin in thought.

"What?" he asks them, "you're all looking at me like I'm the omniscient bringer of all knowledge."

"You mean you're not?" Jack asks in an only half-serious tone, slinging his staff over his shoulder. "So we're gonna have to do a bit of thinking, eh?" He lets out an overdramatic sigh, his shoulders falling in mock melodrama, "I was hoping it wouldn't descend to this, but alas…"

"So where do we even start?" Bunny asks nobody in particular, shrugging quickly then letting his arms drop back down to his sides, completely limp.

"Why not behind you?"

* * *

**Sorry (still) for the longer-than-I-would-like wait on this, but now that I'm done with my other fanfic, and exam week is coming up (meaning no homework, and earlier release from school), I should hopefully have another update by next friday. If I don't, please don't kill me. I may change the rating to 'T' at some point, because I'm having to try a lot harder than I would like to keep the language at a G-rating, and possibly (probably) a fight scene or two (or more) coming up in pretty short order, so... Yeah. As the Klingons would say, *pounds chest* Qapla'! **


	6. The sickened

Everyone bolts around to the awful, hoarse voice behind them. They almost immediately wish that they hadn't.

Behind them is a spirit, mutated by god only knows how many diseases, warts on his face, scars and callouses from countless blisters and pockets of puss. One eye is bulged out at the bottom, giving it a half-closed appearance. His back is hunched sickeningly and slightly lopsided as it leans heavily on a cane on one side of its body. So much pain is evident in its one good, yellow eye that it looks deranged. Its breathing is heavy and labored, as if just standing there is tiring it.

All of the Guardians and both Deaths just stand there and look at it for a while, as if locked in an uncalled staring contest. It takes a single uneasy, teetering step forward, its legs and knees crackling and popping with the movement, and the Guardians take a single involuntary step back.

"So…" its voice is like nails on a chalkboard as it starts to talk again, "You've figured some stuff out, I see. I must say, I'm impressed that you managed to complete even this small task of figuring out what's going on." It lets out a squeaky cackle.

"Well, _I_ must say," Angel steps forward, his hood once again covering his face, all but his mouth completely concealed, "This is quite an honor, really." He turns back to the Guardians and jabs a thumb at the mutated being of interest. "Did you guys know that we are currently in the presence of the little _schweinhund _that gave the world a new meaning to that old Shakespearean quote 'He is deformed, crooked, old and sere, Ill-faced, worse bodied, shapeless everywhere; Vicious, ungentle, foolish, blunt, unkind; Stigmatical in making, worse in mind'." His words take on increasing venom from the starting tone of mock praise to as his lips form more and of a snarl from their original false-awed smile.

The Guardians and Reap all look at him in shock. Never before had they heard him say quite so much in one sitting.

The aforementioned _schweinhund_ looks at Angel, his eye filled with hate, his muscles as flexed as he can manage with rage. "You'll wish you had never said that." It raises its hands, and a thick yellow smog fills the area, seeping through the mortar in between the cobbling stones under their feet. Angel then raises his hand, and his black smoke comes up to cover his face and the Guardian's, forming gas-masks as Reap does the same for himself. The Guardians all double over as the smog reaches them, coughing and sputtering as the unfathomably foul odor assaults their senses even through the masks and makes their eyes water.

"Get ready guys!" Reap yells at them as he pulls his shotgun down into his hand and chambers a shell, "no telling what this _Arsch mit Ohren_ is gonna do."

Several swaying, hunched over creatures condensed from the noxious surroundings, meandering towards the group, closing on them with all the grace, bravery, and intimidating effects of a small herd of drunks.

"_Tri, dva, odin…_" North counts down at even intervals, slowly raising a sword above his head, the group progressing to further stages of preparation with every word, wielding their weapons and putting on their game-faces. "_Strelyaytye!" _His voice rises suddenly to a shout as he snaps his arm down and charges at one of the creatures, arm and sword outstretched as a deafening _boom_ sounds from Reap's shotgun, leaving everyone's ears ringing. The fight is on.

* * *

**Sorry about the shortness of this, I just wanted to put a bit of something out and say that I _am_ going to be changing the rating to teen soon, and because I just wanted to get this bit of stuff out here because I was actually pretty pleased with this, and I didn't want to ruin it later when I write more (this has been known to happen ^^). Thanks to everyone who has been reading, and thanks for waiting to those of you that have waited, hopefully more is to come later this week.  
**


	7. First blood

**Note: from now on "Angel" is going to be actually referred to as "Hans"**

* * *

The shotgun round's discharge rings in Hans' ears, even now after the fighting is over, the vile creatures but piles of putrid putty on the ground. Hans looks over to the thing that had started it all, its mutilated form trying feebly to get away, moving as quickly as its sluggish form would allow in panic. Closing his eyes, he feels the familiar sensation of his black smoke envelope him and pull him under the floor, leading him towards his destination. When he opens his eyes again a second or two later, he is facing the creature in a squatting position, his eyes narrowed in anger.

The repulsive form panics at the sight of him, stumbling in his attempt to come to a quick halt.

"W-What are you going to do to me?!" it cries out, posing the terrified question to nobody in particular, just whoever would answer. Without a word, Angel stands up and starts to walk slowly over to it, smoke rising from the floor to envelop his hand, trailing wispy strands of the darkness behind him.

"No. NO!" the creature screams in terror, pushing itself away from the menacingly approaching spirit of death. "Please, don't hurt me! I am already in so much pain." Hans' footsteps falter in their rhythm for just a second, and his hand lowers just the slightest bit. "You don't understand how it feels to be alone in this world, with nothing to accompany you but the creatures you bend out of nothing but your own will. You've had the humans at the very least, I've had nothing." Tears now stain the being's face over the mutilations already present, his pleas having overpowered his own defenses. Hans' curse had long since been disarmed, and he now squats in front of the cowering form of illness.

"Yes I do. I know how it feels, and it's terrible," he says, the usual harmony back in his voice, "But-"

"But that's no reason to be going around _plaguing _the human race for the _fun_ of it!"

"Or trying to kill us out of nothing but anger at the world!"

"Or -!" The Guardians, shouting one after the other at the weakened, defeated, broken form in from of them, silence themselves at a slight wave of Hans' hand, and the thin, sharp edge of blackness that flows from it.

"_Sie wissen nichts_, but they're right," Hans says, turning back to the weeping Illness, "They're right, and I'm so sorry." He stands up again, turning his back to the sobbing spirit and walks away, repeating himself: "I'm so sorry," as he nods ever so slightly. The Guardians jump back as two black figures drop from the ceiling and onto Illness with dark blades of energy extending from their arms into the spirit's body, who screams in fear and pain; a scream that lasts only a half second, but echoes infinitely in the open space of the workshop.

The spirit of sickness disintegrates, freezing for a moment, his mouth still open in an incomplete cry, then fades to black, bursting into a cloud of dust and smoke (**think Legend of Zelda style**). The dust hangs in the air for a moment, then moves to Reap, speeding up exponentially and racing windily into him, lifting him in the air as he absorbs the precious power it holds. Everyone looks at him, intrigued until the wind dies down.

Then, the moment passed them, the dark figures disable their energy blades and turn to Hans.

"_Your orders, sir?_" The same echo-y voice as last time rings in their minds, but this time a bit gruffer and professional, like soldier reporting to his commander.

"Be on constant stand-by, follow us around, but stay hidden and ready for action." At these words, the creature nods. It thrusts both arms forward, spread wide across the entire group. The Guardians all recoil as a loud, sharp ringing fills their ears, and their vision blurs to the point of blindness. When their senses clear, the creatures are gone.

"Wh-where did those _things_ go?" Jack asks, pointing to the spot where the creatures stood not five seconds previous. "And more importantly, _what_ the devil _are _they?" Hans just grins, letting out a short, sharp chuckle.

"Those '_things'_, as you so sensitively put it, are creatures usually simply called 'dark ones'. And about where they are…" his lips curl slowly into a wicked smirk, "you don't need to know."

Everyone cast an uneasy glance behind them, as if making sure they weren't about to literally stab them in the back.

"Well," Reap says, clapping and rubbing his hands together, "I'm not sure about you guys, but _I _would rather like to get going and make sure that these little -" he cuts himself short before saying something that would more than likely be _very_ hard on the ears when Hans shoots him a warning look. "-before any spirit uses my power for any more harm. So waddaya say we get a move on, eh?" At a unanimous nod, the group splits, each Guardian going to their respective realms in their own respective fashions, leaving just the two Death brothers in the open room. A long silence passes between them, neither really having anything to say, but both growing slightly uncomfortable with the silence that had been shared between them for so long continuing even with mutual presence.

"Sooo…" Reap says slowly and awkwardly as Hans dispels his scythe, a guitar forming from the smoke that it broke into. "How long've you been playing?" It was a stupid question and lame attempt at conversation and he knew it, as did Hans, if his "you've _got_ to be kidding me" look says anything, but he couldn't take the crushing silence much longer. The soft strums of the guitar soon filled the silent void, a relaxed minor tune flowing from the instrument guided be Hans' expert hands.

The guitar persisted as the only sound in the room until one by one, the Guardians returned, their preparations done.

"So you two look about as happy as I've ever seen you," North says with irony laced in his voice, noticing the lightly gloomy expression on Hans' face and the sad, minor chords ringing from the guitar, slowing steadily to a halt now that the others are back.

Both deaths stare back at him in response, one with crystal eyes, filled with unexpected emotion, the other with a blank darkness on the shadow cast over his face, and he isn't sure which is a more powerful, forceful answer.

* * *

**Sorry about that last bit there, maybe not the most well-written bit, but eh :/ I was listening to Bushido, and it was getting to me. To answer a question, the German bits aren't vital to the story, but if you want to translate them, go ahead, it might add to the story a bit. It may also help explain some stuff I may add later in the story. So, bis nächstes mal.  
**


	8. Next?

"So…" Bunny says slowly a few seconds after jumping from his hole, "What now? I mean, that isn't the only thing, right?"

"_Nein_, I wish it were, though," Reap's hollow voice answers after a moment's hesitation. "The only question now is where will the next one be?" Finishing the thought he looks to Hans with everyone else in the room.

"What? Why do you always look to _me_?" he says flatly with a shrug of his shoulders, "We should be asking that to _you_, brother. Where _is_ the next one?" His guitar melts back into a scythe as he stands up and turns his head to look at Reap.

"How am _I_ supposed to know? I'm not the smart one!"

"No, no you're not," Hans agrees bluntly, "But you _are_ the one that's missing himself. So tell me," he leans so far over it's almost comical, and rests his chin on his chest, "Where are you?"

* * *

"Where. In the name of great Russia. Are we?" North asks, looking around his surroundings in as much question as the rest of his fellow Guardians.

They are in a dark ally of an old town, with wooden houses and dirt roads stretching out from a central sort of town square almost. A few lamp posts stand tall from the ground and stretch longingly to the twilight skies as the sun dips below a nearby mountain range. Villagers mill about in the square, all wairing rags and torn-up tunics of wool. Some carry baskets of bread or pales of water to and from houses and wells and shops, scurrying about in daily life.

"You sure that _this_ is where the power of death is, Death?" Jack asks, looking around questioningly, kicking his staff up over his shoulder. "I expected something a little more… grand."

"Yeah, I'm not sure how or why, but I _know_ it's here. Somewhere."

"Well then what are we waiting for? Let's get to it!" Tooth exclaims giddily and flutters off to the edge of the ally.

"Nonono! Tooth!" Hans whisper-shouts after her, pulling her back into the ally with his magic.

"What? Don't we have to find Reap's power, or something like that?"

"Yes, but think about how the villagers would react." The Guardian considers it for a moment, and then grudgingly nods.

"So what do we do, eh mate?" Bunny asks, the question reinforced by a golden yellow question mark, courtesy of Sandy.

Hans thinks for a second, then his eyebrows rise and he inhales audibly.

"Idea?" Bunny guesses.

"Idea," Hans confirms with a nod, "Now this is gonna sound crazy, but listen closely."

* * *

The townspeople step out of the way of the small procession of robed, hooded, chanting Guardians moving through the town with reverent respect.

"_Pies Lesu domine: Dona eis requiem.  
Pies Lesu domine: Dona eis requiem."_

The group rounds a corner into another alley, where they are once again completely alone. The robes of most of the group melt into a familiar, eerie black smoke, and moves to the two figures who still have their hoods raised.

"Well, I can't believe that 'pretend to be monks' trick worked," Bunny says in hardly concealed surprise.

"Monty Python had some pretty good ideas, he did."

"So now what do we do?" Tooth wonders more to herself than anyone else. The Guardians look around, looking for some reason that the Deaths would have led them where they did. Hans looks at them expectantly from beneath his hood.

"Well?" he asks, "Do you see it?" They all look around with greater attention, but still see nothing.

"Of course you don't, you need to look through the eyes of death. You need to see the nature of things," he explains.

"What 'nature' are you talking about?" North asks, waving his arms out to his sides and making a sweeping motion about everything around him. "What 'nature' is here? Eh?"

"The _true_ nature," Hans says with a sigh, his head dropping a tad, "the _nature_ of it! The ebb, the flow, and everything in between. The coming of life and the passing of death, the coming of death and the passing of life. It's all part of the greater process." Hans' voice is ethereal as it rings out through the alley, sinking in to the listeners minds and ringing with ever more powerful truth and meaning. The Guardians look around again, with a newer light in them, clashing and battling their views that they hold so dear to them. Their thoughts, their outlook, their perception of the world, their dark thoughts on death, everything except their core is shaken to the extreme. Could what Hans said be true? Could death not be the end, but rather just the beginning of a new story; could it be a new life in death?

As they leave their dwelling in the past, dim lights of crimson start to dance lazily in front of their eyes, flowing around one another to form beautiful patterns and figures, characters from every alphabet imaginable and more, forming figures and movements and everything in between. The lights all suddenly converge in one area, forming a sort of door way that dances and swirls in front of them. Their movements slow, taking on the lazy nature of the lights in their eyes as the world slowly fades to grey.

* * *

"_Koi kayless pookload.  
Koi pook beh poo.  
Yochbow mathbow je shuv wee  
say moach chyu may ew.  
Mahshoov, mahnong, ej ma choch chew  
Nee beh yin mahj ach wov- COO!_"

Deaths' rhythmic voices call the Guardians awake again over a steady _thump_ing keeping their time, the world spinning in their barely-opening eyes. They are both sitting calmly on small crates, now humming the same tune.

"Wha-? What happened?" North asks, rubbing his aching head.

"Ahh, you're awake… Finally." Reap says with a slightly annoyed dismissiveness lacing his voice as he reaches over and picks up his shotgun again.

"Nice to know you care about us so much." Sarcasm laces Jack's voice as he glares a death who just stares back from the deep shadows of his hood, sending a shiver up his spine.

"So what… what's going on?" Fairy asks.

"Well, look for yourself." Angel says, walking over to help the Guardians to their feet. They look down the alley where a dim, unnatural red-orange light forms a large, gothic-styled door, shining down the darkness highlighting the edges of everything it shines over.

"Wh-what is that?" Bunny asks, hands subconsciously going to the sheathes of his boomerangs, eyeing the door cautiously.

"Let's see," Reap smirks as he stands up and walks back to the door, reaching out to it, but not quite touching it, "shall we?"

* * *

**Good god it's been too long. School has been... well, I've been through this whole spiel before, school blah blah, other stuff blah blah, you know how it goes. If you have a character that you would be okay with me using for this story, leave a name and description in a review or PM, I will credit you with him/her/it in the author's note. Specify whether you want him/her/it to be good or evil, and if you have any locations that you want me to use, tell me that too. Have a nice insert current time period, and 'till next time I bid you adieu.  
**


	9. Their nature

**Hans POV**

We all walk slowly to the gateway, looking at it in apprehension. The Guardians' faces are glowing with awe at its translucent red form. After a moment of silence, Reap is the first to step forwards into its shimmering form; it breaks around him, rippling like newly disturbed water as he passes through it, dissolving into a fine mist on the other side of the ethereal passageway as he is teleported to his- our –new destination. The Guardians all look at one another in slight worry again, and then at me. I nod very slightly, and they also go through the passageway, one by one. Soon only Tooth and I are left. Fear is evident in her eyes as she looks at the gateway. I lay a reassuring hand on her shoulder, and give her a light smile and a nod when she looks up at me. Turning back to the gateway, she takes a deep breath and walks through. Looking around one last time, I follow.

The gateway's field is warm and comforting as it caresses my form, flowing around me lightly. I step all the way through, and let the familiar blackness of teleportation take me away, my knees giving and falling to the ground is the last thing I feel.

"Han… ans?.. Hans!" A rich, loud voice rings in my ears, and I slowly open my eyes. The walls of this place seem to be made of little blue-green cubes, all crookedly locked together by some invisible force. There is no ground, I'm just lying on a pillar of the same type of block that stretches down into the never-ending void on all sides of me. The Guardians are lying on pillars very similar to mine, each one a different color. Rising unsteadily to my feet, I take a step closer to the edge of the pillar, and more of the stones rise from the void in front of me, while some fall back into the void behind me. A grin spreads across my lips. _I know this place. I like this._ The Guardians wake up, all at once, and look around with cloudy eyes. Their eyes widen and fill with shock and fear as they bolt to their feet.

"It's okay," I say simply, my voice echoing down the chasm. _This is a sacred place_. Suddenly, though, my heart is gripped by an icy fear.

Why here? Why would the portal Reaper sensed bring us here, of all places?

Sandman raises his hand, enveloping it with the warm glow of sand to supplement the dim green light given off by runes on the walls. I walk slowly over to one of the walls, stone rising and lowering around me as I walk, and gently brush my hands over the symbols as they glow brighter with my presence.

"Alright mate, time for some explaining!" Bunny's voice is shaking slightly with nerves as he calls out, "Where the bloody hell are we?" Sighing at his tone and words, I turn to face him.

"_Eto myecto Temmnikh__,_" I explain in the native Russian of this place, the place of the Dark Ones, my grin spreading to a full smile across my hidden face. I look slightly upwards and lightly touch my forehead, then bring my hand down to my sternum, ball my hand into a fist, and look down again, letting out a deep breath and hearing Reaper do the same.

"Okay, that's lovely," Bunny says with a light sarcasm, "Now _where. are. we?_" I can't help let out a little chuckle.

"This is the place of the Dark Ones," Reaper translates with a sigh, slinging his shotgun over his shoulder. "And-" He cuts himself off, lifting his head, listening to something. I strain my ears, listening for anything out of the ordinary.

"Do you hear that?" he asks at just above a whisper, pointing upwards. I strain my ears, but still don't hear anyth- Wait. There's just the faintest, pulsating sound coming from outside the circular room.

"Yeah, yeah I think I do," Bunny confirms. Of course it would be Bunny. Great Odin, those ears.

"It's coming from outside," Reaper says softly, drawing his shotgun back off of his shoulder, "What in _Ginnungagap_ could that be."

_One way to find out,_ I think to myself as I gather my magics around the group, closing my eyes and willing us outside. I open my eyes to the mostly faded wisps of black smoke and the peaked orange skies.

Something feels off though.

"Well well well," I hear a raspy voice from behind me, "what have I here?" Turning, we all see a figure standing on one of the pillars of the Citadel; a lone figure wearing skins, and plate armor on his arms, legs, and chest, and the cranium of a wolf skull on the top of his head as a helmet and mask. The skull has light, red patterns on it, twisting and curving with a rather tribal feel. Several rings are scattered across his fingers, and he wears a necklace with a shining, cut piece of quartz on the end in the shape of an arrowhead.

_This is quite a surprise, I must say_, I think to myself, _quite a surprise indeed._

"Hello Greed," I hear Reaper say next to me as I call my scythe, "Somehow, I'm not at all surprised to find _you_ here. Not quite satisfied with the entirety of the multiverse to choose from, you've got to be _here_ too."

He simply shrugs. "Eh, 'tis my nature. Now I assume you're here for your precious little Dark On-"

He is cut off as a tomahawk strikes the pillar next to his foot, trailing black smoke back to its owner, a Dark One, hanging calmly from an overhanging bit of ceiling. Looking around, I see more Dark Ones in various hiding places, lurking in the shadows, as is _their_ nature.

"Oh, believe you me," I say with a smug grin growing on my lips, "The Dark Ones don't need me to bail them out of jack _shit_."

And then, they strike as one. As is their nature.

* * *

**Well, took me long enough, huh? I actually did some thinking as to the continuing of the plotline, and I'll be writing some more soon. Also, bonus points to the people who know what the "Dark Ones" are, and why they're Russian. So until next time, g'bye.  
**


End file.
